Children's Day

"Waaaaaah!!!"

On the screen, I was finishing off the last out with a strikeout and roaring in triumph. Ko Mandeok threw both hands high and came charging up onto the mound, the whole infield swarming in right behind him. The crowd went completely insane, screaming their lungs out to celebrate the complete-game shutout.

"Watching it again?"

Hwang Chan-young, my roommate on the road, asked in a voice that already sounded exhausted as he watched me stare blankly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the laptop.

"Yeah. I really pitched well, didn't I?"

"You did. It was ridiculous."

"When I saw that last pitch and the swing, chills just shot through my whole body."

"You know you've said that like five times already, right?"

"Heh heh."

"Come on, let's go eat. You said you were getting a massage."

"Yeah. Gotta do that."

Our team had a massage therapist who traveled with us even on the road. Official title: trainer. The guys loved him—not just the older veterans, but the younger players around my age too. They were always dropping by for a session.

I, on the other hand, had never once gone. I just wasn't a big fan of massages.

Last year there hadn't been any real need. I only came in for the ninth inning, so I'd figured, Why bother? This year I still hadn't gotten one either. The coaches and seniors kept recommending it, but every morning I woke up feeling fine, so I'd decided rest was better.

Then yesterday, after the game, Manager Park Donghoon came up to me and ordered me—no excuses—to get a recovery massage today. I'd said okay at the time without thinking much of it… but when I woke up this morning, my body felt different.

How to put it… like I was wearing several thick layers of clothes?

I'd thrown over a hundred pitches and stayed locked in the entire game. That had to be it.

So today I decided to borrow the trainer's hands.

"Aaaagh!! That hurts! It hurts!"

"Oh come on~ Quit being such a baby."

"I'm serious, it really hurts! Right there—ow! Aaaagh!"

"If you'd come regularly this wouldn't be happening. How do you go a whole year without showing up once?"

"It hasn't even been a year yet—oooowww!"

"We've still got twenty minutes. Lie still."

This was exactly why I hated massages. I was dying and the guy wouldn't listen to a word.

After about thirty minutes the session finally ended. I slid off the table like a completely melted puddle. My body felt utterly drained of strength…

"Huh?"

I felt light.

"What the hell."

The body that had been creaking thirty minutes ago was suddenly so much lighter.

"Any sore spots left?"

"Uh… no, actually."

"Good. Come often from now on."

"Y-yes, sir!"

Looks like I was about to become a regular at this place.

First game of May.

I took ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the mound as the starter on May 2nd, and from the very first pitch nothing felt right.

Whap!

Whap!

Whap!

The entire time I threw in the indoor bullpen, the same thought kept looping.

"Ugh, this is driving me crazy."

"Why? The ball looks good."

"I don't like it."

"Huh? No, it's really good. I'm not just saying that—it's genuinely good!"

"…"

I knew that. The pitches themselves weren't a big problem today.

But that was exactly the problem. "Not a big problem" was the problem.

"It didn't feel like this last time I threw."

"…"

"I can't find that feel at all. It feels like it's right there on the tip of my fingers, but… damn it."

"…You know you were really locked in that day, right?"

"Of course."

"You can't expect to be locked in like that every single time. That day was just special. But your stuff today is still plenty good."

"Can I throw ten more?"

"…Are you insane?"

Yeah.

I still couldn't forget the sensation from my last start in April. That feeling of the ball sticking perfectly to my hand. The way my fingers seemed to dig into the seams. I wanted to feel it again.

Ko Mandeok shook his head in pure frustration watching me…

What could I do? I'd already tasted it once.

"Let's go. Time to get ready."

"…Fiiine~"

But I was out of time.

After finishing my first May start against the Unicorns with a no-decision, Thursday rolled around two days later.

I was out for a light jog before the third game of the Unicorns series when Manager Park Donghoon came looking for me.

"How about some batting practice today?"

"…Should I?"

I'd still been taking batting practice here and there. Obviously not every day, but on the training days between my starts I usually got in one or two sessions. The day after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a start was rest, and the day after that I wasn't supposed to push it, so the most I ever got was two days. Even then I had to squeeze in around the team's vibe and the hitters' schedules, so just one day already felt like a gift.

But for the manager himself to step up and tell me to hit on a non-training day? That was a first.

I must have looked a little surprised, because Manager Park started explaining why.

"You know what tomorrow is, right?"

"Children's Day?"

Every year on Children's Day we played the Falcons, the other team that shared Jamsil Stadium as its home. It was one of the fiercest matchups of the entire season, no exaggeration. Last year the Falcons had taken it. We'd gotten completely wrecked without even putting up a fight, and the fans had absolutely roasted us for weeks afterward.

Maybe that was why the whole roster had been locked in and itching for revenge the last few days.

"Right. I'm thinking of starting you tomorrow. Call it an event appearance if you want, or just real-game experience. Either works."

This was a seriously dangerous offer. If I came out and laid a massive egg… forget my pitching numbers—I'd have to swear off looking at any community boards for a good long while.

And yet… my mouth kept twitching upward. No matter what happened later, right now I was just plain happy.

"…Really?"

"Yeah. But if you don't hit the standard in today's session, I'll rethink it."

"Yes, sir!"

I'd hoped for it, but never actually expected it, so I got a little fired up.

"What about defense? Where am I playing?"

"……??"

A mix of disbelief and pure pity crossed Manager Park's face.

"Ah…"

"Kyung-min's going to first."

"So DH, then."

Our designated hitter spot still wasn't locked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down. Usually the captain took it, but when he played first base a few different guys rotated through. Sometimes they put Ju Yang-gyu in right and Shane at DH; other times it was Jeong Jong-seong or Ko Mandeok.

"But I'm good at defense too, you know."

"……??"

That look again. The classic What kind of nonsense is this lunatic spouting face.

"I'm serious. I was the starting shortstop all the way through middle school."

"…Just go."

"Yessir."

I'd only said it half-joking. Of course I never expected them to actually give me defensive innings.

I'd tried a few outfield drills during spring training… and it hadn't gone well. Too long since I'd last played out there; I had zero feel for reading the ball off the bat. My throws, though—those were filthy. Not that throwing was the problem.

I loosened up with some stretching and started the session under the hitting coach's direction.

It was the first real, proper batting practice since the season began.

After a solid chunk of work, I earned my spot in the Children's Day starting lineup, no questions asked.

Even though we shared Jamsil with them, today we were the home team.

Our starter was Michael Len, whose turn in the rotation lined up perfectly, so no juggling needed. The Falcons, though, had bumped their ace Roman Dyke up a day. "Bumped" was relative—there had been a Monday off, so he was still working on four days' rest.

Since we were home, we handled the ceremonial first pitch too. True to Children's Day, a tiny, adorable little girl appeared clutching a ball bigger than her own hand. She was Michael Len's daughter. Sitting behind home plate with a huge grin, her dad watched her fire a surprisingly solid throw right to him.

"Man, that's cute."

"You should hurry up and get married so you can have a daughter of your own."

"…"

Ko Mandeok was needling me from the side again. Lately it had become a regular thing.

Apparently the guy had been set up with a girl not long ago—completely under the radar—and shockingly, it was going well. Just that alone already felt like betrayal…

"Ah! You don't have a girl, do you? Talentless bastard."

Ever since then, every time he saw me it was this.

"If I don't get a hit today, it's all your fault, hyung."

"You're the one with no game. How is that my fault?"

"…"

Nothing left to say. Damn it.

While Ko Mandeok and I were bickering like that—

"Play ball!"

From far across the field came the call that started today's game.